


When I Was Drowning

by TrinityEverett



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-04-18 15:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4710257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrinityEverett/pseuds/TrinityEverett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance meeting between two people has the potential to change their lives forever. A Caskett Meeting AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Title** : When I Was Drowning

**Rating** : T

**Pairing** : Caskett

**Category** : AU, Angst, Humor, Sweetness, A little of everything!

**Summary:**  A chance meeting between two people has the potential to change their lives forever. Written in response to a prompt sent to castlefanficprompts (prompt at the end of this chapter).

**Notes** : I try to say thank you to everyone each time I write a story, but I don't always manage to do so. So I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for taking the time and the chance on my stories, including this one.

* * *

The complaint comes in exactly twenty-two and a half minutes before her birthday (and the second half of the double she's pulling) starts. Dispatch confirms her unit is closest, and her ride-along partner assures her it'll be a quick and easy thing.

"We'll get you back to the station in time for cake and ice cream, Beckett," he teases. It's good-natured, and she can't help but want to know who stole the glance at her file to find out about the day.

She hasn't said a word about it to anyone but the captain, and that was only to ask to take the overnight shift so she can see her dad later in the afternoon. Her father's doing better and that's all the birthday gift she really needs right now. But the chance to actually see him and spend real time with him is great.

Maybe this call will be a blessing in disguise. Or at least a way of delaying her inevitable embarrassment; there's no doubt that  _something's_  waiting for her at the station courtesy of her fellow uniforms.

It sounds simple, the call. Trendy loft building in SoHo needs them to escort someone off the property. Probably homeless, as insensitive as it is to think. She's gone on hundreds of these types of calls since joining the force. More after the missteps she made last year, when things were at a low with her dad and Mike – Royce, just Royce – stopped answering her calls for good. Letting herself get lost in her mom's case was a mistake, but she's better now. She is. And she knows that even though she hasn't had a call like this in months, it's not a punishment. It's just being on the beat at the right time.

So they'll go, they'll load the guy into the squad car and see if he has somewhere to go for the night. More often than not, the accommodations at the Twelfth Precinct work just fine, but sometimes the person gives them an address instead. Sometimes it's a shelter, sometimes it's a home and it becomes another issue entirely. Beckett's hoping not to get into any domestic issues tonight.

Her partner wants to throw the gumball to "liven" things up as they navigate through a crowd of tourists spilling out of some pizza place that claims to be "the best in town for all eternity," but since she's driving, her rules go. There's no reason for it. The lights and the siren stay off unless necessary; asking a homeless man to leave a building isn't a necessary moment.

She spots their guy slumped against the wall, head bent, as soon as she double parks. Against her better judgment, she says she'll approach alone. Sparky can back her up instead of using his superb tact and people skills to make this more uncomfortable than it needs to be.

"Sir," she calls, drawing near with measured steps. The last thing she wants to do is startle someone who's easily violent. "I'm with the NYPD. Do you have any weapons? Any knives? Any guns or bottles?"

Some of the other officers don't ask, but she makes sure to do so every time. As the fading scar on her forearm can attest, being sliced with a broken wine bottle sucks.

After a few seconds, the man's head shakes. Good, he's responsive. That always makes it easier.

"That's good, sir. I'm going to come closer."

She steps around his foot, watching it jitter against the concrete.

"Do you know where you are?"

A nod this time.

"I'm sorry I have to do this, but building security has asked me to make you leave."

He snorts, drawing shaking hands over his face. The movement startles her enough to touch her hip, but her gun stays where it is. His hands lower, flopping limply into his lap.

"I live here. Or I guess I used to." His voice is hoarse. Whether it's from overuse or a lack of, she has no idea, but she wants to hear what he has to say.

"Is that so?" She squats at his side, ready to ease him up, only to stop short.

Holy  _shit_. It can't be.

"Had a fight with my mother, big fight. She moved in to take care of my daughter, told me to go get my shit together. I just… I came back, and she wouldn't let me in. Hasn't let me in since." His story's disjointed, but she gets the general idea.

It really can't be. But the eyes… the nose… the cadence of the voice.

"How'd you lose your shit in the first place?" she asks, waving Sparks back. The man in front of her isn't drunk; it looks like he's in the early stages of withdrawal.

"Writing's hard. Writing's ridiculously hard, 'specially with a kid. An' I knew that, I was handling that, but then it  _all_  started coming down. The ideas stopped, the words stopped. My ex started asking for  _more_ , even though she doesn't deserve anything. Everybody started asking for more. Wanting a piece of me."

Oh, God. It  _is_  him. It's –

"So I figured take the pills, stay awake, write faster at night. Then I could be Dad during the day. But it didn't work. The ideas still weren't there, and I thought maybe… I needed something else. Stupid move, but… here I am."

She's heard stories like it before, but knowing it's him rips through her chest, making it hard for her to breathe. Swiping quickly at her eyes, she nods.

He notices anyway. "Hey, hey don't cry. M'getting better now, I am. No more pills, nothing. None."

Well, that explains the shakes.

"Beckett, come on, is he riding or walking?"

Whirling, she glares at Sparks. As far as partners go, he's not a bad guy, he's just impatient.

"Gimme a second, Sparky, jeez."

That makes the man in front of her laugh. She has to try not to smile, too.

"Is there anywhere you can go tonight? If not… we'll have to take you down to the station."

He shakes his head. "I've been camping out on a friend's – well my agent's – couch, but she had a date. I just wanted to come see 'Lexis. I buzzed, but… I think they're not home, or Mother just won't let me in."

The last thing she should be doing is getting invested and involved; the training says to keep it friendly but impersonal. Don't get attached. But it's  _him_  and her gut is in a knot.

"I'm sorry."

His head falls back, defeated. "Me, too. Am I under arrest?" He lifts his hands for the cuffs.

She shakes her head. "Just want to give you somewhere warm to sleep tonight. A safe place to detox, too. That's what you're trying to do, right?"

Jeez, she's too damn good at this. Between the job and her dad, she knows all the lingo, knows how to have patience.

"Trying to, yeah. It was just supposed to help me write."

"I know, Mr. Castle. I know. I'm going to help you up, okay? Do you have any needles on you?"

His eyes train on hers, shame swirling in along with the discomfort. "You know me."

Biting her lip, she nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I know you. Needles?"

His head shakes rapidly. "No needles. I don't – never needles."

"Okay. Come on, up and at 'em, Mr. Castle." There, now she's found the gruff Beckett again.

Sparky's at her back as soon as she takes Richard Castle's elbow and helps him stand, but she ignores her partner. Avery doesn't need to see what this is doing to her emotions.

This is her favorite author and he looks like hell. He'd been thin when she met him at the signing a year or so ago, but he's thinner now – sick thin, not workout thin. The scruff on his face makes his cheeks hollow and the dark circles under his eyes darker. She can feel the ridges of his spine through his coat as they walk to the squad car. Jesus, he's really done a number on himself.

"Hey, Sparky, you hungry?" It sounds callous at first, asking about food in front of someone who could obviously use a cheeseburger or ten, but she can't just come right out and buy the man dinner.

"Eh, I could eat."

"Yeah, well, I want to. Remy's on the way back to the precinct?"

She helps their charge into the backseat, watching as his limbs unfurl when he hits the heat. The bag in his hand slides down to his feet.

"What about you, Castle? You think some fries will sit okay on your stomach?"

He looks up, almost surprised she's talking to him. "Wha? I… sure. That sounds good."

Nodding, she looks at her partner. "Alright, it's settled then. Sparky'll run in and get us a late, late dinner when we get there."

Avery looks confused. "I will?"

"Uh huh. My birthday, you buy."

She pastes a cheeky grin on her face before sliding behind the wheel. Sparks grumbles, but there's no bite to it.

He even seems to have caught on that the extra double cheeseburger she insists on quietly is for Mr. Castle, and he gets out with their orders without argument when she stops at the diner a few blocks later.

"It's your birthday?"

Castle's eyes are closed when she looks back, but he's obviously awake.

"As of… twelve minutes ago, yeah."

He smiles softly, reminding her how starstruck she'd been when she met him before. He'd smiled just like that.

"Happy Birthday, Officer…"

"Beckett. Kate," she adds quickly, twisting in the driver's seat. There's no way he'll remember her from before, but maybe her first name will spark something.

"Happy Birthday, Officer Beckett Kate," he murmurs.

"Thanks," she bites her lip. "For um, for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"Sorry? About this?" He gestures around the backseat.

She nods. "I've um, I've read your books. I'd been wondering where you'd gone. You've been off the grid for a while."

He looks away. "Yeah, I know."

She swallows, looking away, too. "That wasn't a nag, by the way."

"Thanks."

She'd once had a dream about spending her birthday with Richard Castle, but this isn't exactly how it went down.

"You're good at this. Have to do it often?" He breaks the silence again.

"Well, it is kind of my job…"

"Yeah, but uh, you're softer about it than I imagine Sparky would be. You've got experience. A friend? Family member?"

Her father's face springs to mind and her jaw tightens. "Just my job, Mr. Castle. Nothing else," she snaps, far more defensively than she means for it to be. His face falls.

"Sorry." He seems to curl tighter into himself in front of her, drawing the bag into his lap. His fingers shake against the leather.

"I'm… sorry, that wasn't fair."

"No, I over – "

"I mean, you meant it as a compliment, right? That I treat people nicely 'cause it's how I'd treat my own family?"

She swallows hard, remembering one too many shouting matches with her dad. She hadn't treated him very well for a while.

"Yeah," Castle breathes, coughing into his hand. "That's all I meant by it."

"Then… thanks. And I'm sorry I snapped at you."

Sweat's beading on his forehead and she turns the heat down for him.

"Are you…" she trails off. Now she's going to be the one overstepping. "Have you talked to anyone? Looked into a program or meetings or something?"

He grimaces. "Trying not to let the mystery writer world know their literary golden boy let himself go like this, Beckett."

"They can be confidential…"

He shakes his head. "Better to fix it myself. It's my mistake, right?"

That's exactly what her father said for so long.

Her mouth opens, but she foregoes saying what she's thinking as Sparks yanks the door handle and practically dives back into the car. It must be cooling down out there.

"Alright, three strawberry shakes, two double cheeseburgers, one regular burger – no onions – and three large fries. Happy Birthday, Beckett."

"Thanks, Sparky."

She passes Castle's food back to him through the tiny opening in the cage, ignoring the grateful look he gives her in favor of watching their fingers slide over each other.

Shit, she still has a crush on him, doesn't she?

"Okay, back to the station. I can't eat in the car."

She pops a fry into her mouth anyway, wiping the grease on the side of the bag before throwing the car into drive.

Sparky's look mocks her a little when they park at the precinct and she says she'll escort Mr. Castle down to holding, but he holds his tongue for some reason. Whatever, let him think she's an idiot for helping the man like this. That said, she's glad her partner's not following her when she changes her mind and shifts directions abruptly.

"Where are we going?" Castle stumbles behind her.

"Do you have anything illegal on you?" She looks at him seriously, daring him to lie to her. "Any pills? Any drugs at all. Even prescriptions that aren't yours?"

He shakes his head quickly.

"No, no, I threw everything… out. I'm trying to get it all out of my system… like I said."

"Good. Then come with me. You can clean up in the locker room and crash on a cot in the uniform bunkroom. There are a couple beds, so you're not taking one from anyone."

"I… really? But don't you have to- ?"

"You aren't in custody and you aren't being processed for anything. Do you really want to sleep in holding?"

Castle's head shakes again.

"No, no, but… is that gonna get you in trouble?"

"Not if you don't make a big deal about it. Sparky sneaked his girlfriend in last month." She wiggles her eyebrows for comic effect. "I made him wash the sheets, don't worry."

He laughs tightly. "Then… thanks."

She waits just inside the locker room door, listening to the splatter of the water on the tile as he showers.

Maybe she's a sucker, maybe she's letting affection for someone she doesn't even know cloud her judgment. Maybe he should be treated the way every other guy they bring in here is treated.

But she can't do that to him.

She wouldn't be here if not for him. Not in this job, possibly not on this earth. She owes Richard Castle in more ways than letting him use the uniform's break room can repay.

And if he's playing her, then that's on him. Not her.

The water stops and he emerges from the showers a few minutes later wearing clean clothes. The t-shirt hangs on his chest in a way she knows it didn't months before, he's that thin. Involuntarily, her eyes rake up and down his arms. They're clean.

He told her the truth about that. At least as far as she can see. She can't see the rest of him, but if he was truthful about this, then there's hope that she's not being played for a fool.

Their eyes meet, causing her cheeks to flush. He knows why she's looking.

He smiles self-deprecatingly. "I'll drop my pants if you want to see the rest, Beckett."

"I – excuse me?"

"You're checking for track marks. Unless you're just checking me out in general…"

Her eyes roll, but her cheeks still flame at the idea. Well… she could be…

"It's okay," he interrupts quietly, the self-deprecating smile back on his face. "I get it." He folds his clothes, tucking them into the leather bag. "Thank you for this."

"You're welcome. Come on. How um, how're you feeling?"

"Better, I think," he exhales. "I'm… hopefully it's almost done."

He looks a little green, but she doesn't comment. Maybe his dinner was too rich for his stomach. Her own food's been forgotten on a desk somewhere, probably claimed by someone else already anyway.

She nods, holding out her hand to him. She'll make sure there's a bucket by the bunk.

"When'd you last…?"

"Yesterday? Day before yesterday? It didn't hit me at first."

He settles heavily on the mattress she points him to, watching her with wary eyes. She perches across from him, wringing her hands.

"You should sleep."

"What about you?" he asks, lifting his eyes to hers again.

"I have to go back out in a bit. I'm on shift all night."

He 'oh's softly.

"I should… probably make sure everything's good out there. But I'll check on you before I leave."

Castle nods again, licking his lips. "Thank you for this."

"Returning the favor, Mr. Castle."

His head tilts quizzically.

She bites her lip quickly, the decision springing from her lips. "I'll make you a deal. Get yourself clean – really clean – and get home to your daughter, and I'll tell you what I mean by that."

She offers her hand, hoping the added incentive will be enough to make him think about what he's doing. If the withdrawal and the knowledge of what he's missing with his family isn't enough, maybe she's intrigued him the way he boasts about loving in his interviews on the society pages. She might not be blonde, or busty, or begging to be on his arm, but maybe she can entice him into sobriety with a mystery.

And if not, she still tried. For him, for his daughter. For herself and her mother, too.

"You have a deal, Officer Beckett Kate."

His fingers shake when he slides his hand into hers, but she holds on tightly.

"Good. And I'll warn you, Mr. Castle, I get pissed when people break their deals with me."

This time when he smiles, it spreads across his cheeks and reaches his eyes. He looks so much like the man she met a year ago, she can't help but blush.

"I'll keep that in mi –" he stops, swallowing hard. "Oh, shit. I'm gonna – "

Not for the first time, she's grateful for her quick reflexes; the trashcan she grabbed makes it under his chin as he loses his dinner. Strong stomachs make detective, but she still tries not to breathe too deeply.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." His eyes are squeezed shut, hands trembling as he struggles to hold onto the trashcan instead of relying on her to do it for him. "Shittiest first date ever."

Surprise has her laughing softly, and she frees a hand to rub his back.

"Pick up a lot of women this way, Mr. Castle? I didn't even know this was a date. But hey, at least you made it to the trash can first. I went out with this guy once who was so nervous, he puked on me before we even started the date. I said hi and he said rawrlph."

Castle smiles faintly. "Don't – don't blame him."

"Yeah?" Her hand stills on his back. "Well, I'll sweeten the deal. I'll let you make this first date up to me when you get back."

"Back? Back from where?"

"My dad just… he just came back from a place that can help. He's so much better than he was before, and he said they treated him well there. I can take you or give you the address, but I think a place like that's… the way to go."

"I can't. I can't go anywhere. The press… I don't want to do that to Alexis. I can do it on my own."

"So you'd rather just couch surf until you get picked up by the cops outside your home? Castle, you think I didn't hear 'I can do it on my own' for years? My dad drank for over  _four_  years. I held a bucket for him for more than two of those years before I just had to let him figure it out for himself. Don't make your daughter have to make that choice, too. Swallow your pride, forget about the press, and get yourself clean."

She straightens once she's sure he's not going to hurl anymore. "I'll get you some water to rinse your mouth and I'll clean up the can, then I need to go back to work."

He won't meet her eyes, but he nods.

He's asleep by the time she returns with a clean trashcan, curled up in the bunk, facing away. He looks small, diminished; if they hadn't walked in together she would have no idea that he's as tall as he really is.

She checks her watch, her dad's watch, trying to avoid watching him sleep. It's time for her next patrol, anyway. Guess she won't be saying goodbye or good luck.

She leaves him a note instead. It's short, scribbled on the back of a flyer she finds, but she thanks him for helping get her birthday off to an interesting start. It's a gamble, but she also gives him all the information about the place she mentioned earlier, plus her number. She asks him to call once he gets himself together; they have a deal and she won't be the one to break it.

Folding the paper, she slides it into his bag, casting one last glance at him before she goes.

And that's that.

* * *

**Prompt** :  _ **Meeting; castle is a drug addict on the street and Beckett helps him though it and gets him the help he needs.**_

**This fic was _not_  supposed to be as long as it is, but the inspiration hit me and I just had a story to tell. I hope you'll stick with me for the next 3 chapters.**


	2. Chapter 2

**_When I Was Drowning - Chapter 2_ **

* * *

Her phone rings just as she's settling in for the night. For the first time in a very long time, she knows it isn't work; she's off until the late shift tomorrow night and short of everyone ahead of her on the duty roster flaking out, there's no way she's being called in. She doesn't recognize the number when she flips her phone open, but she answers out of sheer curiosity.

"Beckett." Her voice echoes around the bowl of her wine glass.

"Officer Beckett Kate?"

The glass freezes at her mouth. It's him. He's – oh, he's really calling her. He's _really_  calling her.

"It's um, it's Richard Castle. I'm not sure if you remember me, but – "

"I remember you, Mr. Castle," she interrupts, grateful to be alone. It means nobody's around to witness the way her arms flail and her wine sloshes. Holy shit, he's actually calling her. It's been four months, but he's actually calling her.

"Oh! Oh, good. I'm glad… is this a bad time?"

"No! No, no. I'm just… I just got off shift. So you know, I'm just relaxing. How are you? You were gone when I got back after my last patrol…"

"I'm getting better, thanks to you. I just got back from the place you told me about in your note."

He did? That's what's different about his voice. He sounds… well he doesn't sound frail anymore. He sounded frail before, weathered.

"You did? They were able to help?"

"Yeah they were. They were great. And I … talked to my mother before I left; I'm back at home. I moved back this weekend. She's staying, too, but she let me come back home."

"Oh, Castle, that's so good to hear. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks," he breathes. Okay, now he sounds a little weird. Nervous, maybe?

She sips her wine, waiting to see if he's going to continue, and he does, "Anyway, I… won't take up more of your downtime, but I was hoping maybe soon I could take you out? To make up for puking on you on your birthday."

"Oh, oh… you don't… I mean you don't have to. There's nothing to make up for. You were sick…"

"Well, there is a matter of a deal we made. You did make it pretty clear breaking a deal with you is frowned upon. And I, for one, have kept my end of the bargain."

Sinking into the couch, she hides her face. She'd been bluffing, but oh crap, he's calling her on it.

"I – yeah it is. Frowned upon, it is." Great, Yoda speak.

"So if nothing else, maybe I can buy you a coffee and give you proof that I've made good, and then you can decide if you want to keep your end of the deal. It _is_  a matter of honor, after all." Oh, he's teasing her. He's actually teasing her.

"My honor is just fine, Mr. Castle."

"Is it? Then I think our deal was one story and one make up first date in exchange for me getting my shit together."

"I –" she stumbles.

"But hey," he cuts in softly. "I really just want to thank you in person. Spend an hour with a pretty girl if I can. No pressure for anything else, I swear."

He thinks she's pretty? She's surprised he even remembers what she looked like – she doesn't really think she looks  _that_  attractive in her uniform anyway – but they're not at one of his book signings so there's no reason for him to flatter her. Of course, there was no reason to call at all. She's just some cop who gave him a place to sleep it off and an address to turn things around.

"Okay," she agrees, ducking her head. "Coffee sounds great, but you need to take some time and settle back in at home first. Be with your daughter, she needs that."

She's speaking from experience.

"Okay," he agrees softly, thoughtfully. "Okay, Officer Beckett. I'll do that."

"Good, that's good."

"Is this a good number to call you on?"

She smiles into her knee. "Yeah. Yeah, Castle. This is a good number. Is yours?"

"Yeah, it's my cell phone."

"Good. Then um, you know how – and where – to find me, and I know that about you, too." God, she's so bad at this. Is this what her ability to flirt has come to?

His chuckle is throaty and warm and her face tingles a little. So much for being over that crush.

"Good. Being able to be found is a good thing."

Now that's bad, too. Apparently he's suffering from the same affliction of dorkiness that she is. Which is…actually comforting; it's not a game to him if he's this nervous.

"Yeah it is."

He clears his throat. "Anyway, I'll um, I'll let you go Officer Beckett Kate. We'll talk soon?"

"Yeah we will," she murmurs, hiding her face. He keeps using that ridiculous version of her name and she can't help but want to giggle like she's fourteen at it each time. "Take care of yourself, Castle."

"You, too, Kate."

She's so glad her phone hangs up automatically when she flips it closed, because she can't contain an excited squeal and she'd probably die of embarrassment if he heard it.

* * *

Two weeks later, she's sitting in a booth at a quiet little coffee shop, twisting an empty sugar packet between her fingers. She and Castle have talked every day since the first night he called, even for just a few minutes at a time before she leaves for a patrol. It's been… fun. Most of the time, she's able to forget that she's talking to Richard Castle, famous author. Instead he's just Rick (or Castle as habit has her continuing to call him, not the he complains a bit) the single dad who's going through some pretty big stuff, and yet he still manages to make her laugh. So when he asked if she'd be up for coffee on her day off, she didn't hesitate this time.

And now she waits, more than a little nervously. She likes him, a lot. More now than she had before, and that kind of terrifies her. Do they have much else in common beyond the things they've already talked about? She doubts he really wants to spend his time getting to know some beat cop almost a decade younger than he is. Still, she can't help but hold onto the odd note of hope that he will.

She sits up straighter when the door opens and he steps in. He… wow, he looks good. So much better than he did the last time she saw him. He's gained weight, but it looks good on him. His cheeks are full, his shoulders look broad again. His hair falls on his forehead still, but it's no longer limp and dull. His cheeks are mostly clean-shaven, but the scruff is sexy this time instead of off-putting. Yeah, he looks good. Strong, too.

A smile splits his face when he sees her, and she can't help but smile back. She's on her feet by the time he makes his way to the back, feeling her cheeks heat as he looks her over. Okay, yes, maybe he likes her, too.

"Hi," she greets lamely.

"Hi," he echoes, stepping closer and closer until oh, his arms are around her.

Well this is… they're on a hugging basis, okay. He's warm and he smells good. She can deal with being in this man's arms.

Relaxing into the embrace, her palms flatten against his back. She's pleased not to feel his bones just under his skin this time.

"Hey," he breathes. "You look great."

"You do, too."

Her hands fumble a little bit when he releases her before they decide to push her hair behind her ears. She's still getting used to the cut; it's shorter than she's had it in years at her chin, but it's been a nice change.

"There um, there weren't any other seats when I got here. Is this okay?"

He grins. "Kate, this is great. Okay, sit, sit. I'll get our coffee. What would you like?"

As soon as her order leaves her mouth, he's scurrying to the counter, waving again for her to sit. Not for the first time, she wishes her cell phone had a camera. Maybe her next upgrade will be one with the ability to get photographic evidence of the fact that Richard Freaking Castle is buying  _her_  a coffee.

It might just be a low-key meeting for coffee, but this is  _definitely_  a date to him.

He runs his hand through his hair while he waits, and the gesture makes her smile. That's a nervous tic if she's ever seen one. Okay, it's not just her then. Good. They're both nervous.

They both smile a little shyly when he slides across from her, nudging her coffee over. His cup is smaller than hers, but after reading up on addiction when her dad came home, she knows why.

"So…" she warms her hands around the cup, looking him over once again.

"So…"

"How's your daughter? What's she up to today?"

"She's good. She's going home with a friend after soccer tonight. That's why I thought it might be a good day for us to get together."

"It was. And I'm glad you called when you did; it gave me time to do laundry."

He chuckles. "Happy to give you an excuse to finally take care of your laundry pile. That's actually my plan for the night."

"Remember fabric softener. I had to run out after my first load. It wasn't pretty; those towels felt a lot like sandpaper." Her face twists comically.

Castle laughs again, hiding his mirth behind the rim of his cup. "I'll keep that in mind, thanks."

"Mmm, you do that."

She shakes her head at herself. Man, she's even worse at this than she thought; talking about laundry on a date.

"So she's okay? Alexis? She must be happy to have you settling in again."

"She is. She… she told me she's just glad I got better, even if it took a little while."

"That's good. It was probably easier these last few months, knowing you were somewhere safe."

"Compared to before? Definitely. That was not my – or my mother's – most shining moment." His head dips, ashamed.

Her hand covers his quickly, surprising them both. "I know the feeling."

"Because of your dad?" When he looks back at her, his eyes are soft, curious.

"Yeah," she admits, biting her lip. "I didn't want to admit there was a problem at first, and then he didn't want to believe me when I told him there was. And it made me so, so angry with him. We would… there was a lot of arguing. I stormed out a lot, he stormed out a lot…"

"That sounds familiar. What um, why…?"

"Why'd he drink?"

He nods solemnly. "Yeah. During group sessions, we talked a lot about whether we started to use because of a trigger event, if there was something that made it hard to cope any other way, or if the urge had always been there. So I was just curious, but I'm sorry… you don't have to answer. Overstepping's a bad habit, writer's habit."

Their fingers slide over each other.

"Remember when I said I was returning the favor?"

Castle nods. "I remember."

She swallows quickly, looking down at their hands. "My mom died. She was… killed… and neither of us took it well. That's what," she presses her lips together quickly. "That was my dad's trigger. He coped in the bottle, I coped… with you." She lifts her eyes to his. "Your books, anyway. They made me think about getting justice – real justice – for her, and I became a cop."

Emotion flares in his eyes. She expects pity, she's used to pity, but there's just sadness. Regret.

"So um, I guess we should both be glad that they tell me I'm good at the job. Because if I sucked at it, I'd probably be pissed at you and would've locked you up instead."

It's a bad joke, and a completely obvious attempt to keep things light, despite the weight of her confession. He lets her have it, though, smiling around whatever it is he's feeling for her right now.

"But that's why when I realized it was you, I had to do more than just toss you in the drunk tank and walk away."

"I'm so grateful, Kate, believe me."

Impulsively, she leans across the table, kissing his cheek. His cologne or aftershave, whatever it is, tickles her nose. It's not unpleasant, though. Neither is the cheek under her lips.

"I'm glad I was able to help."

His lips brush her cheek in response before she can retreat to her spot.

"Me, too."

The sugar packet she'd abandoned when he walked in finds its way between her fingers again.

He sips his coffee, giving them both a moment to regroup. "Would you like to meet her? Alexis, I mean. I've told her about you."

"About me? Why?"

He grins. "Because you're awesome? Because you probably saved my life?"

"Castle –"

"You did. I thought I was getting through it, and maybe I could've stuck with it on my own, but you knocked some sense into me. Made it so I didn't have to. And I told her that. So yeah, I'd like you to meet Alexis at some point."

Her head lowers, warmth flooding her cheeks. Oh god, she didn't do all those things. Not the way he's saying she did.

"Kay, okay sure. I'd like to meet her, too."

"Great." He lights up. "It doesn't have to be immediately, just um, sometime. Okay?"

"Okay," she agrees, smiling at his eagerness. It's sweet that he wants her to meet his kid. "Then tell me more about her. I don't want to make an ass out of myself."

"Like I believe you could ever do that."

"I can!"

"Prove it, Beckett."

It's the same name everyone at the precinct calls her, but for some reason her heart races when he says it. His eyebrow lifts in challenge.

"Alright," she agrees, shifting her jaw. "Let's see."

Their heads gravitate together as she tells him the first ridiculous story that comes to mind. He's cute when he laughs, even if it's at her expense.

"So there you have it, Mr. Castle. One bonafide Kate Beckett making an ass out of herself story."

"Nah, that's nothing compared to the Ricky Castle Follies."

Her thumb swipes over his knuckles. She'd abandoned the sugar packet in favor of touching him just a few minutes into her story.

"You're older than I am, so you've had more chances," she teases quietly.

"O-ho, going right to the age."

"Well you  _are_. It's not a lie."

"Yeah, yeah," he drawls, sliding his fingers between hers. It's an intimate, practiced move and her heart stutters.

"Anyway, now that we've established that I  _am_  capable of making an ass out of myself, tell me more about Alexis."

She's pretty sure it's impossible for him to look any happier than he does when he starts to talk about his daughter. Any time he pauses, she asks another question, just to hear the love and pride in his voice. She learns it's just him, Alexis, and his mother and it has been since his daughter was little. He admits his mother hasn't always been the most reliable support system, either, which is part of what put so much pressure on him before; he just wants to do things right for his little girl.

"Hey," she hums, squeezing his hand. "You're doing just fine for her, you are. She sounds like she's smart, happy, and adjusted. So you had to go away for a few months, you came back and you're going to be here from now on. That's what matters to her."

His head dips. "Thank you, that helps."

"It was hard with my dad, but in the end, I just needed to see him get better."

Rick nods. "How's he doing now?"

"He's okay. Seven months sober. The, um, anniversary of her death was hard, but he came over for the day and he was as good as he could be, I think."

He nods again. "Tell me about him."

"My dad?" She blinks, surprised. "Why?"

"Because you know about my family. I want to know about yours."

"Damn, you get right to it on your first dates, don't you?"

His cheeks redden a little, but he lifts a shoulder. "You seem like a no bull kind of woman." Off her look, he adds, "Which personally, I like."

"Yeah? You're a fan of that?" She bites her lip quickly, trying not to look pathetically elated.

He nods earnestly, eyes bright.

"Okay, well, my dad…"

Nobody has ever looked at her as intently as he does while she talks. It should unnerve her, and it does at first, but she soon settles under the warmth of his gaze. He isn't just humoring her, he isn't sizing her up and judging her for what she says; he actually wants to know, he actually cares.

They spend the better part of the next two hours talking and giggling, sometimes dipping into the heavier stuff, until the barista steps over looking apologetic. Supposedly, they're being kicked out because it's closing time, but considering it's only eight o'clock, she has a feeling it's really because they haven't bought anything in hours. Either way, Castle offers her his arm after standing and thanking the girl, and her hand slides through easily.

"So um, I know you have a big night of laundry planned, but if you wanted to fortify yourself for it, maybe we could grab a burger?" She waits to suggest it until they're out of the barista's earshot, lifting her eyes to his quickly. It's probably a little selfish to ask for more of his time, but for once she doesn't want to go back to her quiet place just yet.

Neither does Rick apparently, because he smiles almost bashfully. "That sounds good – great, even. That sounds great. I'm hungry, too."

"Great. Remy's again? Relive the first date a little more?"

"Perfect," he answers around a chuckle.

They have to move away from each other to get on the subway, but when they manage to get seats together, she takes a chance and brushes her index finger over his knuckles. It's almost childish to be this eager to touch a boy's hand, but she still smiles behind her hair when his index finger hooks around hers.

"So, how's your work, Officer? I haven't asked you about that."

She lifts a shoulder. "Not too bad. But before you get so excited you burst, I have to remind you it's not the glamorous life you're picturing, being a cop. I stand in a lot more dumpsters than you'd think."

"Now I don't believe that."

"No, it's true. Sparky spent three hours in an industrial sized one last week. I got to bail after two."

"Well look at you," he teases, bumping her shoulder gently.

"Don't be too impressed, it was to go pick up dog poop for another case. I did get to walk a Great Dane for an afternoon, though."

He grins. "Ah, but were you walking it, or was it walking you?"

"Well when you put it that way," she drawls, grinning against her shoulder. How he's managed to make her act this goofy so quickly, she has no idea. It's been years since she had a reason to be goofy.

"They're good dogs."

"They are. This one was sweet. He whimpered when I made him sit in the back of the squad car, and when he was in the front, he kept trying to sit in my lap."

Rick grins. He doesn't say a word, but somehow she just knows what he's thinking. He can't blame him.

"Shut up."

She's so very proud of him when he doesn't respond with the "make me," she expected.

She kisses him outside his building, in the exact spot where they met four months and change ago. It's spontaneous, born of the closeness and the happy feeling in her gut she's felt all night long. He seems surprised when she cups his cheeks, pressing her mouth to his smile, but he doesn't push her away. No, he kisses her back, careful and cautious, like he's not sure he trusts himself just yet. She knows the feeling well.

"Thank you for tonight, Castle," she breathes, sliding her nose along his. "Best first date do-over I've ever had." Her lips brush his again.

"I'm," he clears his throat, "I'm glad."

"Now," she hums, diligently smoothing his lapel down. "Go do your laundry and we'll talk tomorrow?"

"We will talk tomorrow," he promises, and she feels his fingers tuck her hair behind her ear. Their mouths touch again, less tentatively this time, but he pulls back before it becomes too overwhelming.

"Thank you, Kate." He smiles as he disappears through the front door.

Her lips tingle as she watches him go. She doesn't have to catch her reflection in his lobby windows to know her face is flushed with delight, maybe a little bit of embarrassment, and definitely the early stages of arousal.

She just… with Richard Castle. Holy crap.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**_When I Was Drowning - Chapter 3_ **

She meets his daughter and his mother entirely by accident just a few weeks after their first date do-over. She's in his neighborhood shopping for her dad's birthday present, texting him her shopping woes, when she hears her name.

"Kate?"

She twists. No wonder the ring tone she kept hearing sounded familiar.

"Castle?" Her mouth snaps shut as two heads of vibrant red hair pop out from behind his back. "What are - hey!" she stutters. "What are you doing here?"

He smiles lopsidedly. "Shopping. Mother insisted I needed a new wallet after, well you heard what happened."

Laughing softly, she nods. "I did. In great detail," she teases, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

He laughs, lifting a shoulder. "So you're looking for something for your dad's birthday?"

"Yeah, I think I found it." She holds up the dress shirt and tie for emphasis. He nods in approval at her choices. "It'll be nice for his new job, I think."

"Yeah, it will be," he agrees, smiling easily.

Her manners remind her that he's not alone, making her wave a little crazily to his companions. "Hi, are you Alexis?"

That brightens the girl's curious look.

"Uh huh, that's me."

"I'm Ka-"

"I know. Dad talks about you all the time."

Before she even has a chance to look at Rick for confirmation, two thin arms wrap around her waist and his daughter whispers, "Thank you," repeatedly.

Beckett winds her arms around Alexis' willowy shoulders, shutting her eyes against her gratitude. This is why she helped Castle. Yes, he's her favorite author, yes he'd changed her life, but his daughter and his family, they're why.

"Thank you, Kate."

"You're welcome." It comes out softer than she intends, but that's probably a blessing because her voice shakes. "I'm glad I could help him."

Alexis beams. "Dad says you're a uniform police officer, are you not working today?"

She laughs softly, swiping quickly at her eyes. "Not until tonight. I'll change into my uniform before I go to work."

"Do you like it? Being a cop?"

Oh god, she's going to be just like Rick, isn't she? She has the same bright, eager eyes. No doubt she'll ask the same endless questions.

"I do. I'm hoping to be a detective soon."

"And then you won't have to wear a uniform, right? I read about it in a book once."

Kate chuckles, looking to Castle for a little backup. Affection's written all over his face, but she has no idea if it's meant for her or for his daughter.

She squeezes Alexis again before releasing her and nodding to the other redhead. Rick's mother. "Hi, I'm Kate. I'm a, uh, friend of your son's."

Well, she  _is_  that. She's his friend. She's just also dating him… kind of. At least she thinks she is, based on the number of times he's dropped by the precinct to have lunch with her, and based on the number of times she's called or texted him to ask him to dinner instead of going straight home after her shift. That sounds like dating to her.

"Oh, darling, believe me, I know who you are. You're all Richard can talk about."

Rick's huff makes his mother roll her eyes.

"Well she is, kiddo, just admit that."

Her cheeks pinken.

"Beckett, this is my mother, Martha Rodgers. Mother, this is the lovely Kate Beckett." Castle chuckles a little when she glares. "She doesn't accept compliments well."

"It's nice to meet you, Martha." She holds out her hand.

"You, too." His mother's handshake is firm, which surprises her a little, given how delicate the woman's hands seem.

Castle smiles again, pleased with how this meeting seems to be going. She knows things are still weird between him and his mother, but they're getting there it seems. "So once you finish your shopping, are you free for lunch? Or an early dinner, since you're on shift later?"

She could say no, but with three faces (two hopeful, and one simply appraising) looking back at her, it's hard to do. She  _had_  been hoping to see him soon, but maybe not quite like this.

"Sure, that sounds good. Let me just," she trails off, gesturing to the front of the store. "I can meet you up there when you're done?"

"Oh, I'm done. Alexis, do you want to walk with me, or wait with Gram?"

Alexis looks between them. "With you. I want to talk to Kate more."

She smiles, shifting her gifts. "In that case, why don't we walk together?"

Alexis peppers her with questions as they wait in line, her bright blue eyes thoughtful as she considers her answers. As she suspected, the girl is just like Castle; so smart and so inquisitive, and somehow it's more unnerving for the ten year old to grill her than the grown man.

Castle's eating it up, both the interaction and the stories. Not that he doesn't already know most of what she's telling Alexis, but he just likes to hear her say it, it seems.

She must pass Alexis' unspoken test, because by the time she's finished paying, they've moved onto an important topic: food. Castle has so many ideas for food creation and Alexis wants her take on it all.

"So what  _do_  you like to eat, Kate."

"Oh, well I like just about anything. Burgers, Chinese, pizza, even broccoli," she teases, watching the girl's face scrunch in disgust. Castle's told her about his continuing battle to get the girl to enjoy the vegetable.

"Blegh. Not even Dad's broccoli's that good."

Laughing softly, she cuts her eyes to Castle. She watches his sure movements as he slips his fingers through his old, mangled wallet for the right card.

"Your dad's a pretty good cook, huh?"

Alexis nods. "You should come to dinner sometime. He's a good cook, except for the broccoli. But I don't think anything can make broccoli good."

Rick's head turns at that and he winks before thanking the cashier and slipping his arm around his daughter's shoulders. His bag dangles from his wrist.

"Come now, daughter, we just haven't found the right flavor combination. I'm thinking choco-broccoli. Make it a dessert piece instead of part of the entrée."

The appalled look on Alexis' face makes Kate giggle into her hand.

"Eww, no. No, Dad. Just no."

"Are you sure? I'm thinking maybe melt the chocolate and sprinkle little bits of broccoli in. It'll be like heath."

"Which you hate," Alexis points out wryly. Oh, Castle's taught his daughter well. She likes this kid.

"Exactly, so why not substitute heath for something less teeth cracking?"

The smile he sends Beckett's way has her pulling her lip between her teeth. She really shouldn't be this smitten with him this soon.

But damn it all, she is. And judging by the looks his family's giving them both, it's mutual.

She ends up beside him at lunch, sitting so close their hips and thighs tough. The restaurant is packed and this tiny booth that was probably not meant for four people was all they could get without waiting over an hour. It's not unpleasant being this close to him, but it is a little disconcerting since his mother and daughter are right  _there_. She has to pretend her heart's not hammering wildly as he stretches and oh-so-smoothly drapes his arm over the back of the booth and her shoulders.

She's pretty sure she fails at that endeavor.

Somehow, the invitation to dinner with her dad slips out as they're saying goodbye. Alexis is hanging back with her grandmother, both redheads watching them. They did that all through lunch. Apparently she and Castle amuse them.

"Thank you again for lunch," she murmurs. "You didn't have to get mine, too."

"You got coffee the other day." He shrugs. "Besides, we did kind of corner you into it."

Her lips turn up. "Yeah maybe a little bit. So hey, think you want to make it up to me some more?"

Curiosity makes his eyes brighter. "And how can I do that, Officer Beckett?"

"Dinner tomorrow night."

"For your dad's birthday?" he sounds a little squeaky at that.

"Uh huh. Turnabout's fair play, Castle. Met your mom, met your daughter. Let's cut through the rest and make it your turn."

"Yeah," he sputters. "But that was… kismet, fate."

"Well," she hums, touching his chest quickly. "Fate yourself to be available tomorrow night? Please? I'd really like the two of you to meet."

And she does, she realizes. Not just because she kind of wants to show him off to her dad (which is probably a first for her), but she also thinks maybe bringing someone new to the Beckett fold will be good for them. A support group for three in some respects. And maybe her father and Castle can even support each other in ways she can't; they both have experiences she can't share.

"Well, because you said please and all," he agrees, reaching for her hand. "What time and where?"

She tells him quickly as the phone in her pocket buzzes to life. Crap, someone must've had to leave early; she's being called in.

"I need to go," she says reluctantly, waggling the phone at him. Castle nods in understanding.

"Go on, duty calls. I'll text you later."

"Kay."

"Tell Sparky I say hi."

Lips pursed in amusement, she nods.

"Will do."

They both go in for a hug like always, but the quick, firm kiss they share upon releasing each other is new. Yes, they've kissed before; the night outside his place, cheek kisses here and there, the lingering press after dinner three nights ago, but this kiss has a sweetness, a comforting familiarity that's both exhilarating and terrifying.

Plus, for as many (or few) times as they've kissed, they've never had an audience before. At least not one they're related to in some way.

Licking her lips, she fights the urge to hide her face. Instead, she smooths his jacket over his shoulders. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he breathes, looking a little bit stunned himself. "Catch some bad guys."

Oh, hell. Why not kiss him again? Her hands frame his face, thumbs slipping over his lips. "I'll let you know if anything interesting happens." He likes hearing about her cop adventures.

His mouth ghosts over her palm as she pulls away. They're going in opposite directions, but he still winks over his shoulder on his way over to his mother and daughter. "You're too good to me, Beckett."

* * *

The next night he looks so nervous when he meets her outside the restaurant, she can't help but lift onto the toes of her flat boots and kiss him again.

"Relax, Castle. My dad's cuddly."

"Really?"

"Well, no, but – wait, wait, hear me out," she adds quickly. "He might be quiet, but that means he's comfortable. He knows you're coming with me and he's excited to meet you. I kinda talk about you, too. Don't gloat," she warns, covering his mouth with her hand.

She feels him smile under her hand. Truthfully, her father and Rick aren't so different. Yes, Castle likes talking, but she's coming to learn he can also be silent, radiating a sense of peace he isn't quite accustomed to yet.

"Deal," he mumbles around her knuckles.

"Good." Her hand leaves his mouth. Their fingers slide together, the gift bag she'd hastily packed bumping between them. "Come on, face the music."

Her father stands as soon as he sees her, his smile soft and genuine. She sees his eyes cut to the man behind her, widening in recognition, but he schools his face before they reach him. Okay, maybe she hadn't exactly  _confirmed_  that her guest was  _the_  Richard Castle, but how many Castles are there in New York anyway?

She smiles, giving Rick's hand a squeeze in encouragement before tugging him beside her.

"Hi, Dad. Happy Birthday."

Her free arm slides around his shoulders and her lips find his cheek. Castle releases her hand, somehow knowing she wants the chance to hug her father with both arms. The relief hits her sometimes; things could've gone so much differently, but her dad's here.

"Thanks, Katie. I'm glad you're here."

"Me, too." She kisses his cheek again, smiling when he smiles. Now she knows he's watching her guest curiously. "Dad," she begins, twisting to wink at Castle. "This is my friend Rick. Castle, my dad, Jim."

Castle's hand comes out quickly, and she steps to his side for moral support. When her fingers sweep up and down Castle's back, her father's eyebrow twitches, but he doesn't call attention to it.

"Nice to meet you, Rick. Katie talks a lot about you."

"You too, sir –"

"Jim."

Castle nods, dipping his head quickly. "Jim. Thank you for letting me join you for dinner."

They smile at each other and the nervousness starts to fade. Yes, this was a good idea. They're going to get along fine.

"Come on, let's sit. Castle's been chomping at the bit to get the embarrassing stories on me. And I know those are your specialty, Dad."

* * *

"Kate?"

"Cassle?" It comes out groggily and half-mangled by the pillow obscuring half of her face. She's been in bed for all of two and a half hours. "Wha's wrong? S'it 'Lexis? Are you okay?"

He'd been writing all day, in the zone to the point where he'd taken a rain check on getting coffee with her, but he'd seemed tired when they last talked. He'd even said he was going to bed, so why is he awake now?

"No, no, Alexis is fine. She's okay. She's in bed."

Scraping a hand over her face, she checks the clock. Yeah, two hours since she'd walked in the door, stripped and changed into pajamas, and collapsed in a heap on her bed.

"Are you okay?" she repeats. He's worried about something and it's not Alexis.

"I had all the words earlier, but now they're gone."

Oh.

"Why don't you rest, Rick?" she says gently. "Your brain's probably exhausted, don't you think?"

"Can't. I may have shot my mouth off earlier – "

"You? Never," she teases, trying to take his mind off the panic she hears building in his voice.

"I told my publisher I was writing again, since it's the first time in forever and I  _do_ want them to keep me on. So she said, 'That's great, Richard. Have something for me by tomorrow,'" Castle mimics a woman's voice. "After that, it was all gone, and I don't know if –"

"Hey, hey. Easy, Castle. You're doing great, you are. You wrote all day – and yes, I know some of that time you were on Xbox, but you're just fine. You put words on the page for the first time in months."

Her shoes are already on her feet, her old Stanford hoodie sliding over her head to cover her pajamas. "Don't put so much pressure on yourself, okay? I'm coming over."

It isn't until she's in the cab, murmuring soothingly to him that it hits her what she's doing. She's going to his home in the middle of the night, largely uninvited. Is she overstepping? They've been doing this dating without definitions thing for months now. They share meals, texts, phone calls, and kisses, but neither of them have expressly said what  _this_ is. But even so, she's his friend and friends go to each other when they're needed. Even if it is 2am.

They finally hang up as she gets on the elevator in his building and signal cuts out. She has no doubt he's going to be waiting for her, if not as soon as she steps off the elevator, as soon as she knocks on his door. Sure enough, he swings the door open wide mere seconds after her knuckles connect with the metal.

He looks terrible. His hair's askew, his eyes wide and red. She can see his hands shaking in agitation.

"Castle… did you…"

Relapses happen, she knows. If he took something, they'll get through it.

"Did you take anything?" she asks quietly, her eyes flicking upstairs toward his daughter's bedroom before returning to look him over.

"No, no, no. I had a second cup of coffee when I shouldn't have. This is… I think it's the anxiety?"

Her palms slide over his arms and up his neck to hold his cheeks. He focuses on her, letting her see his eyes fully. His pupils look normal; he's not high.

Relief settles firmly in her belly. He's not high, he's panicking.

She pulls him into a hug, sweeping her palm up and down his back slowly. He sags against her, his mouth burrowing into the fabric at her neck.

"Scared me a little there, Castle." Her lips brush his ear.

"Me, too," he admits. Okay, she's going to get him talking to someone again – a sponsor, her dad, someone the department suggests – tomorrow. His outpatient counseling ended months ago, but for times like this, he needs someone.

Her fingers comb through his hair, letting him match her slow, even breaths.

"Okay, here's your game plan. No arguments. You go get in bed, I'll make you some tea to help you sleep, and then I'll kill the lights in here and join you." She gestures around his home. He must've turned every light on to help him stay awake. "And tomorrow, you email whatever you have to your publisher. If she doesn't like how much you've written, too damn bad. You're taking care of yourself first, Derrick Storm second."

Exhaustion seeps into his features. "You're right, you're right."

"You know me, Castle. Of course I'm right."

He chuffs, arms banding around her heavily. Any other time she would suggest a quick shower, but tonight she really just wants to get him into bed.

For sleeping.

The fun stuff can come later, when his emotions are in check and she doesn't have a mere trio of hours until she has to be up for work.

Her hand slips into his hair again. "Alright, go. Brush your teeth, change your boxers, whatever you do before bed. Do it and I'll be in in a few," she orders softly, pressing her lips to his temple.

When it comes time for her to bring his tea to him, it occurs to her that she doesn't actually  _know_  where his bedroom is. She figures it out eventually (it is hard to miss the bed through the open bookshelves and the seemingly useless doorway) giving him a smile when she finds him propped against the pillows. He's turned down the covers beside him in invitation, one she accepts without a fuss.

"It's Sleepytime," she explains, handing one of the steaming mugs over. She made herself a cup, figuring her own ragged nerves can benefit from the calming tea.

His bed's softer than she would've expected and the tea sloshes precariously as she settles. There's plenty of space in the bed for them to have their own space, but his warmth beckons her to settle against his shoulder.

"I didn't say thank you when you got here," he murmurs, his voice already sounding more like his own.

"You don't have to. And if it happens again, just do exactly what you did tonight. Call me, wake me, pull me off my beat, whatever."

"I'll keep it together, Kate."

Humming, she slides her hand down his arm to lace their fingers. It's too late and she's too tired to start an argument about being stubborn. Maybe he'll listen to a story instead. "You know what my shrink tells me?"

"What?" He looks surprised; she hasn't told him about her own therapy yet. "What'd they say?"

"That the tighter we try to hold on and keep it all together by ourselves, the more likely we are to break apart under the strain."

He nods thoughtfully.

"It's okay not to have everything under control all the time, as tough as that is to accept. I'm still working on that part. But he's not full of shit most of the time, so it's good advice I think."

Instead of looking at him, she dips her head to watch their fingers brush over each other. She's not the tiniest of people, but his hand dwarfs hers.

"You can't do it alone. Don't try to do it alone, Castle."

He exhales shakily. "You're right. Or the doc's right. I tried to do that before and look where I ended up. I was drowning. Meeting you notwithstanding, it was a disaster."

She sips her tea slowly, settling her cheek on his shoulder. "I was looking into my mom's case. After hours, off books, way above my pay grade. My captain found me once and didn't stop me, but then I… started drowning in it. Kind of like you did. After my dad got help, the captain made me, too. He said it was that or he'd drag his feet about letting me sit for the Detectives Exam. So I did. I put the case away and I still go to the therapist. Weekly appointments to talk about my life and learn how to deal with feeling powerless sometimes."

He kisses her hair. "I'll make an appointment in the morning. I haven't been following up the way I should've been."

"Good, thank you." She kisses his shoulder.

The yawn rips through her before she can hide it.

"Shit, you're exhausted. I'm so sorry."

"No, well yes, but no apologies. I'll do it again in a heartbeat, Castle." She stretches up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "But now we should both sleep, or I'll end up late for work."

He drains the last of his tea. "Right, okay. Setting the alarm. What time?"

Her fingers feel cold when he pulls his hand away and she leans with him.

"You don't have to set yours. I have an alarm set on my phone. It's not too loud. I'll let you sleep."

"I don't mind. I can always go back to sleep if I need to. I want to make a big breakfast for Alexis, too. Last week of school and everything."

Sighing, she agrees. "I can't talk you out of it, can I?"

"Nope."

"Fine. I'll allow it if you have coffee with me before I leave."

He grins, deftly setting the alarm to her specifications before killing the lights and squirming until his head hits the pillow.

If he were anyone else, she would be freaking out. She  _should_  be, but sliding down beside him feels stupidly natural. She likes it.

He exhales, fingers curling around hers. Sleep's already trying to pull her under, but she fights it enough to scoot closer and seek his warmth.

"Your pjs are cute," he murmurs, lips sliding over her knuckles.

"Thanks. Yours are, too. Manly cute," she adds when he mock huffs, giggling into his chest. Now she's letting her exhaustion get to her.

She's almost out when he calls her name.

"Hmm?"

"So when I wake you when I need you… am I doing that by picking up the phone or rolling over?"

"Depends," she mutters.

"On what?"

"You falling asleep right now." Her hand flails blindly, fingers splaying across his face. "Earn your next sleepover."

His mouth curves under the heel of her hand. "You got it."


	4. Chapter 4

**_When I Was Drowning - Chapter 4_ **

* * *

The next time she sleeps over, it isn't planned. Mostly. She  _did_  bring an overnight bag and put up next to no fight when a movie was suggested after their home cooked dinner with Alexis, but she didn't leave her place with the intention of staying over. It's thrilling, though, slipping into his room with him long after his daughter is in bed. He's calmer this time, no worries about his publisher or the words in sight. In fact, he's been throwing her excited, keen looks all night, but won't come right out and tell her what's on his mind.

Maybe she'll get something out of him before they go to sleep.

His palms skim along her arms, fingertips slipping underneath the paper-thin sleeves of her shirt to brush the balls of her shoulders. He's been touching her more, too, since she'd stepped inside his home and dropped a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"Good day?" she asks, stepping into him. Her hand slides over his shirt, covering his heart to feel the steady thud under her palm. Sometimes she still wonders how they can work so well, how they fit together so rightly when they're so different. But they just fit. Physically, emotionally, they fit.

"Great day," he rumbles, dipping his chin to catch her mouth.

Humming her agreement, she lifts into him. A part of her is so happy he's bulked up again. Not that she wouldn't have loved him if he were still a rail, but now he's so vibrant, so healthy, and she loves that him like this, too.

Shit, she loves him.

She pulls away with a pop, eyes darting up to see if he knows it, if he feels anything like it, too.

His forehead touches hers, eyes bright and sparkling. He does. She just knows.

"So, Mr. Castle," she hums, hands moving up his chest and over his neck to brush his jaw. His stubble tickles her fingertips. "What made today great?"

"You. Alexis. Seeing that sunset. Writing on my own time, making plans for our weekend in the Hamptons."

Right. Her first personal, non-crisis days off in forever. He'd asked her to come along with him and Alexis, he'd even invited her dad. They've earned the break. All of them have.

"Yeah?" Their lips slide together again as her fingers dance over the prickliness of his later-than-5 o'clock shadow.

"Yeah."

"Good. I like when you have great days."

"I like when you have great days, too, Beckett."

He smiles into her mouth, deepening the kiss long enough to make her breathless before pulling away.

It's for the best; the literature says he should be focusing on recovery, not a relationship, and they're already bending the rules with their unconventional thing. Still, she sags against him. It's difficult not to want him.

"I know, I'm sorry." He pushes her hair away from her forehead.

"No, no, this is good. Yes it's a little bit like torture sometimes," she trails off as he nods in agreement. "But it's good. Responsible. Look at you."

"I know, it's weird," he laughs, crinkling his nose adorably.

She laughs with him, winding her arms around his waist for a hug. He gives great hugs. "You're doing so well, Castle. We'll hang in there as long as we need to."

He looks uncertain. "You're sure?"

She squeezes him. "I'm not exactly Sally Normal here, Castle. Would you go anywhere if it were just me?"

"Not a chance." His vehemence warms her.

"So where do you think I'm going?"

"I dunno, the new guy I met the other day at the precinct was eyeing you."

She snorts. "He wasn't, but either way, I've smelled his locker. I'll stick with who I've got." It's a bold statement, far bolder than she normally makes this soon (if ever), but there's nothing but truth in it.

She slides her lips over his neck, nuzzling his Adam's apple gently. He's good for her. Her father tells her so, her therapist tells her so, and she knows it, too. And even if they're pushing the envelope a bit physically, she's pretty sure she's good for him, too.

His cheek lands on her shoulder, chin scraping her neck lightly. Reflexively, her arms tighten around him. No, she's not going anywhere unless she spontaneously combusts. Just a few more months until he hits a year and the generally considered "safe" zone. They can make it.

"Kay, let me get ready for bed. If you're not going to tell me your secret from earlier, pick a book. I want you to read to me." Her mouth bumps his firmly.

It's romance. Just romance done differently.

They're good at that.

* * *

The next few months are a whirlwind of casework, studying for the Detectives Exam, even watching him write on some of her nights off. Crawling into his bed becomes commonplace. They have an odd non-routine routine, and she finds it comforting.

Sometime in mid-July he finishes the book – the one he'd put on hold to get help – and his publisher somehow fast tracks the entire process for a late September, early October limited release, with widespread distribution to come later. That doesn't mean she has to wait to read it, though; on a rare night apart at the end of August, a messenger brings a galley copy to her door.

There's a note on the inside cover for her, lamenting the fact that he had to sneak to even write it for her before his publisher locked the book up to give to the messenger. He assures her the copy is hers, though, provided she doesn't try to sell it on the black market. Then his note goes on to ask her to be his date at the official release party in a few weeks if she can get the time off.

Giddy laughter bubbles from her lips, making her hands shake as she tries to text him to accept the invitation. In the end, she calls him, clutching the book to her chest.

"Did you mean this?"

"Who else would I ask?"

"I don't know? Alexis? Martha? Some random blonde who doesn't smother you?" Well at least she can joke now, over twenty-four hours after a fight about whether he's really doing okay and whether she's hovering too much (he is and she is, she knows).

"Sounding a little jealous there, Beckett, but I understand; I am irresistible."

"And humble."

"That, too," he preens, a smile in his voice. She smiles, too. A second later, he grows serious, "This book wouldn't exist if it weren't for you, Kate. I want you there."

"You're sure? Even though we –"

"Had a fight?"

"Yeah, that."

"We're gonna fight, Kate. Couples fight. Even weird ones like us."

"Yeah they do," she sighs. "I'm sorry, by the way."

"Me, too, Kate."

"I shouldn't have yelled at you. There were better ways to talk about it. You deserved better than that."

"I yelled, too, remember? Some not so nice things, considering you were just concerned about me."

She rubs her face, sinking onto the couch. "I came on a too strong. You're doing great and I acted like you were sneaking around behind my back."

"You came on like a cop. Which is hot when I'm not sleep deprived."

Laughing softly, she swipes at her eyes. Between work and worrying about their fight, she's the sleep deprived one now.

"Which was… kind of your initial point, wasn't it?" he murmurs, and she just knows he's rubbing his face as he gets it.

"Yeah, it was."

"I'm sorry. I just got so focused on finishing the – I'm sorry."

"Me, too, Rick. I just got scared."

"And I'm sorry I missed dinner with your dad. I'll make it up to him."

Her eyes shut tightly. He'd worked through her dad's one year-celebration dinner. That's what started the entire fight. Her dad hadn't been particularly bothered since Rick had called to say he couldn't make it, but something about it had raised her panic levels. Instead of simply asking if everything was okay, she'd started treating her boyfriend like a suspect she'd like to get in the box.

"And I'll make it up to you, Kate."

"No, no you don't have to. I'm the one who jumped on you."

"Kate, you're right to be concerned. Hold me accountable. I'll even let you put me in interrogation and spank me."

Any other time she would simply roll her eyes and move on, but she laughs for him this time. "I'll ask for the time off for the party tomorrow," she promises. "I can't wait. Why is it so far away?"

"Me either. It'll be here sooner than you think."

Of that, she has no doubt.

"Lunch tomorrow?" he murmurs.

"Of course. I'll try not to be late this time." It's a standing date of theirs.

"I'll bring it to you if I need to. I feel like I haven't seen you in days."

"Me, too." Even before their fight last night, she'd been working overtime constantly and he'd been working late to meet another deadline. More often than not lately, she's been asleep by the time he comes to bed and at work the next morning before he awakes.

"Then we will have lunch no matter what. Are you going to read tonight?"

She shouldn't considering she has to be at work at six in the morning, but she knows she will. She'll devour every word until her eyelids droop and she wakes to paper creases on her cheeks. She needs his words tonight since she doesn't have him.

"Yeah I am."

"Kay, go do that. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night, Castle."

"Sleep well, Kate."

Work is swamped the next day, but before she has the chance to beg for a break or call her boyfriend for a rain check, Castle shows up with Chinese takeout (from her favorite place, no less) and a smile. He's even brought enough to share with Sparky and the new guy, Esposito. The guys grab their respective cartons, nodding in thanks before ducking into the break room.

Montgomery's had her reading case files whenever she gets a break, which turns out to be a good thing, because she has a desk she and Castle can use. It's not a romantic place for lunch, but she still presses a quick kiss to his mouth before they start eating and need mints to combat the garlic sauces. He leans into her, hand cupping her neck to keep her close.

Her eyes slip shut. She's being so unprofessional right now, but she just needs another second or two.

"Thanks for doing this. And for bribing the others with food to leave us alone."

"I told you I'd see you," he says, an impish grin on his lips. "Missed you."

"Missed you, too. We're okay right?" They may have cleared the air last night, but she has to ask again. Just to be sure.

He nods, squeezing her neck before backing off. "We are great, Beckett. And we're going to stay that way." He reaches for their food.

His smile's infectious. "Good. I like staying that way."

Knocking his hands out of the way gently, she finishes opening the containers. "You're getting condensation everywhere, Castle."

"Uh huh." He smears the water droplets on his pants, opening her drink for her while she plates their food on the Styrofoam plates they keep in the break room. "Alexis said she's making cookies tonight. It goes without saying that you're invited."

Her tongue pokes between her teeth. "If I get out of here at a decent time, I'm in."

"I'll tell her." He hands her a set of chopsticks and takes a fork for himself. One day she'll get him to try chopsticks, too.

"Good. So um… maybe big news."

"Yeah?" Castle's head lifts. "Is it what I think it is?"

"Well, two things, really. One, I will have the night off for the party."

"I could kiss the captain. What's the second thing?"

She grins, shifting her chopsticks. "Captain says I can sit for the exam next time it's offered."

He beams on her behalf. "That. Is. Awesome. When?"

"Two days after your release party. So you can't get me in trouble until long after that."

"Deal." He scoots closer, sliding his mouth across hers and nipping at her lower lip. "I won't ask to go make out in your squad car then."

Laughing softly, she nods. "Good choice."

His gleeful smile fades into something tender. "I'm so proud of you, Kate. So proud."

There's just something about hearing that from him that causes tears to spring to her eyes. It's only the slow circle of his hand on her back that keeps them from spilling over. She's worked so _hard_  for this, to have him tell her he's proud… it means so much.

"Thanks," she breathes, twisting her chair so their shoulders can bump as they eat. She doesn't complain about the soft kisses he drops against her hair all through lunch.

* * *

True to his word, the party arrives sooner than she anticipates and it's different from what she was expecting. Yes, there are cameras and reporters from the newspapers and entertainment magazines, but it's a remarkably low-key event. It's not the insanity she'd pictured when reading older articles about him. It helps. She's out of her element in this world, but the fact that it's not a circus helps.

Castle meets her at the door, looking so handsome in his suit with his tousled hair and open collar. Her fingers itch to smooth everything down, but she knows it's the look he's going for so she refrains.

"Hey," he breathes, pressing a kiss to her cheek before swiping his lips down to her ear. "How was work? You look… amazing."

She gives in to her instincts, sliding her fingers through his hair. "Thanks, Castle. Work was good. I'll tell you about it later, though. It's you-time now."

Her mouth covers his impulsively. She's not a jealous person or normally possessive at all, but she's here with him and she wants the blonde who's eyeing them from across the room to know that.

"Mhmm, hi," he murmurs, flexing his hands against her hips. "Would've kissed you first, but I wasn't sure how friendly you'd wanna be in front of people." They aren't hiding their relationship, but it's not something either of them are going to great lengths to broadcast. Truthfully, she's more surprised that they've made it this far, been together this long, without anyone plastering their pictures in the paper.

"Me either," she admits, smoothing his collar down. "Well now we know."

"Yes we do." He beams, bumping another kiss on her lips. His arm slips around her waist, palm settling warmly on her hip.

The dress she picked is fitted, but tasteful; she knows he likes it by the way his fingers keep sliding against the fabric. It's been a long time since she's dressed up like this, but his reaction makes the money and the effort worthwhile. Her own hand curls in his suit jacket as she looks around the room again.

"Nice shindig, Castle," she murmurs, brushing her lips along his jaw.

"Thanks." He relaxes against her at the praise.

"Richard, you didn't tell me you were bringing a friend tonight."

Castle twists, turning them until they're face to face with the blonde from a few minutes ago.

"Gina, I did tell you. Twice. This is Kate, my girlfriend and the reason the book got finished. Beckett, this is Gina, my publisher."

She presses her face into his shoulder quickly, hiding the flash of pleasure at the title. That's her; his girlfriend. It doesn't even matter that she's being sized up by Castle's publisher.

"Ah, yes. You did tell me that. I didn't realize you were dating."

"We're keeping things quiet. Kate Beckett. Nice to meet you." She extends her hand politely. She can play nicely with the people Castle works with, even if she does worry about the stress the other woman might be putting on him at times. Castle's palm slides over her hip in thanks.

"You, too, Officer."

"Not just an officer," Castle jumps in, his pride brimming over. "Future detective and all around badass. Seriously, you should  _see_  her clean her service piece. It is  _so_  hot."

The affectionate pat she gives his chest earns her an amused smile from Castle's publisher. Okay, the woman might be a hard ass, but at least she seems to appreciate his zeal.

"He says the same thing about me driving the squad car, too. If you two need to talk alone, I can give you a minute?" she offers, looking between them.

"No, you're fine. I just needed to remind your groupie that I'll need him to be ready to sign autographs in twenty minutes. And then after that we're going to jump into the auction like we talked about."

Castle nods. "I remember, Gina. I'm not going anywhere."

"Make sure you don't. I'm not explaining anything away like last time."

They watch Gina slink across the room to talk to some other suit.

"It was more than a year ago," he explains without waiting for her to ask. Maybe she was not asking very loudly. "I was single but kind of dating here and there, and there was a girl who… wanted a private signing. So we decided to sneak off, and I ended up late for the party festivities."

She rubs his cheek quickly. "Well you're not sneaking off this time. Since you are  _my_  groupie and all. I make the rules."

He chuckles, squeezing her hip. "Not that I wouldn't jump at the chance to sneak off with you, Beckett."

"Mhmm," she hums, tugging him closer. "Next party." Her eyebrows wiggle. "No quickies for us right now."

He groans, reminding her that their mostly self-imposed restrictions are driving him a little crazy, too. "Okay, we need to change the subject."

"Soon, Castle," her lips scrape over his stubble. "Soon."

"Not soon enough," he grumbles. "I feel good, you feel good. We're not using each other as a substitute for something else, or to keep our heads above water, are we?"

"No, of course not." Once upon a time, she might not have been able to say that about a relationship, but this one is good.

She leads him toward the buffet, hoping to continue this conversation once her growling stomach has been appeased.

"And I made it through the stress of finishing the book without backsliding. I just want us to be able to move on with our lives, Kate."

"I know, Castle. I do, too. I just don't want to do anything to jeopardize your progress." It's a worry she's been talking to her therapist about since their fight and subsequent make up. Squeezing him once, she turns toward the food.

He crowds against her, taking the cocktail plate from her so she can load it up as she pleases. Every few seconds he steals a bite, popping it into his mouth with a cheeky grin. Kate's eyes narrow; he's lucky he's cute.

"Then why don't we make a deal, Beckett. Since those seem to work out well for us. I'll talk with the doc and see what he says. If he says wait for a few more weeks, done. If he says I'm emotionally fit to rock your world, then –"

"Rock my world, Castle?"

She gets a ridiculous leer in response. Dork.

"Okay, fine. But just… be romantic about it if he says yes. Otherwise there'll be pressure and it'll get weird," she lowers her voice so the person at the edge of the table can't hear. "And I don't want to pencil sex into my calendar like a doctor's appointment."

"Deal." He pops another bite of her food into his mouth.

She pokes him lightly. "Get your own food, mooch."

He kisses her quickly. "All yours," he assures, reloading the plate with the things he's eaten.

Their hands brush as she takes it back and she leans into him. He could be mingling with all these people and he's hanging out at the buffet table with her; she can share a plate of finger foods with him.

Gina motions to him a moment later.

"Looks like you're up, superstar." She puts her plate on the table, waiting until he straightens and shakes out the rest of his jitters to brush her hands across his shoulders. "Knock 'em dead. I'll find your mom and Alexis and stay with them."

Their lips bump. "Proud of you," she murmurs, thumbing his neck.

Castle inhales sharply. "You are?"

"Even if you did eat the last quiche." She winks, squeezing him. "I'm proud of you, Castle, and you should be proud of yourself, too."

His publisher looks like she's about to start tapping her foot, and now another woman has joined her; this one actually is tapping her foot. That must be Castle's agent. The one whose couch he'd been sleeping on before she met him.

"But maybe you should be proud of yourself while you sign stuff for people. They're ready for you. Go." She steals another kiss anyway.

He smiles. "Okay, grab a book, too? I know you have one at home, but trust me."

"Sure, okay," she agrees, squeezing the hand he slides down her arm as he scoots away.

Alexis beams when she slides onto a plush couch with her. Martha's within sight at the bar so she offers her a little wave.

"Kate, I love your dress."

"Thank you. Yours is gorgeous, too."

Her boyfriend's daughter grins again. "Thanks, Gram and I went shopping yesterday."

"I love it," she assures, offering her plate to Alexis. Castle loaded it back up and she doesn't need to eat it all herself. "So what do you usually do at these things?"

"Read, do homework. I don't always come, but this one's important, super important."

Nodding, she thumbs the spine of the book. "Yeah it is."

"Definitely." Ah, Alexis is grinning now. What does she know? "Have you opened it?"

"The book? Not yet."

She glances over at Castle, seated like a king at a table in the middle of the room, only to find him watching her as he chats with a woman who's most definitely a model. He smiles almost-shyly before turning his attention back to the woman in front of him.

Alexis bumps her gently. "Come  _ooon_ , Kate."

"Okay, okay." She pokes the girl's cheek. "Miss Impatient." Just like her father.

His books have always been a private experience for her. Sometimes she has them delivered straight to her apartment, but when she doesn't, she waits until she gets home with her store purchased prize to even look at it. Her fingers always trace his name on the cover, waiting a beat before she cracks it open for the first time.

This time, she has an audience. Inquisitive blue eyes and a strangely hopeful smile follow her movements. The girl's thrumming with excitement; it's a feeling she knows pretty well when it comes to Castle's books.

"Ka- _ate_ ," Alexis chides. Oh, she really must be taking too long to uncover whatever this surprise is. "That's just the boring copyright stuff."

" _Yes_ , Little Castle," she bumps her gently. "Hold your horses."

Alexis giggles.

"I like looking at everything, thank yo- " she trails off as she turns the page.

_To the extraordinary KB, for inspiring me and changing my life in wonderful ways._

He's… this is for her.  _To_  her. He dedicated his  _book_  to her.

"Do you like it? I said he should've been more romantic, but Dad said you'd like this better."

It's gorgeous. Her arm winds around Alexis, pulling both the girl and the novel to her chest. "It's perfect. I love it."

"You do?"

She nods, squeezing her. "He can be super mushy and romantic another time. This is perfect."

Alexis exhales. "Kay, good."

Castle catches her eye again, the question and the hope obvious on his face. If it weren't for the line of people she'd have to bypass, she would jump up right now and show him exactly how much she loves it. Instead she smiles, mouthing, "It's perfect, thank you," to him.

He goes back to his autographs looking like a man who just won the lottery.

That's okay, she can do super mushy another time, too.

* * *

The call comes in exactly twenty-two and a half minutes before her birthday and the second half of the plan-ruining double shift she'd been unable to get out of pulling. It's hopefully one of her last as a beat cop, but it's still a double.

Not that she won't be pulling doubles as a detective, she knows, but hopefully from here on out they'll consist of sitting at the precinct doing actual case work instead of riding around with Sparky or Esposito, listening to them brag about their video game prowess. She's passed the test; hopefully she'll be confirmed by the committee before the end of the month, and then there's more training and her first assignment.

She has a feeling she'll be back in Vice or maybe Robbery, but if she's lucky – and Montgomery steps on a  _lot_  of toes – she'll get her Homicide posting.

Regardless of where she ends up, though, this call is actually a welcome distraction from the reminder of the hot, delicious man she's not able to be at home enjoying as her birthday starts.

It's only after Esposito's already said they'll take the call that it hits her where they're going.

The loft. Castle's place. Well, the building at least.

If she weren't driving, she'd grab her phone and call him to find out what the hell is going on and if everything is okay.

"Did they say what the complaint is?" She glances over at Javier, trying not to clench the wheel too hard. The call came in on his phone, not the radio.

"It's ah, noise. Noise complaint."

Her eyes narrow. "Noise complaint? Since when are we back on noise duty?"

"Yeah. Sounds like a party's getting a little rowdy. You know how it is, or you would if you had  _fun_ , Beckett."

"Cute, Espo."

"You know me."

"Yeah, a little too well. Unfortunately."

"You wound me."

Her eyes can't stop rolling. Of course, now she's not worrying about it being more than a simple noise complaint in her boyfriend's building.

"Hey, doesn't your boy live around here?"

"My boy?"

"Yeah, your writer boy. Thought I heard him say that the last time he dropped by."

Shifting uncomfortably, she nods. "Yeah he does."

"Is he gonna call you at midnight? Do that unmanly, gushy Happy Birthday talk thing?"

"I dunno, maybe. Why? You jealous? You want him to call you on your birthday, too?"

Esposito snorts. "Just making conversation."

She sighs. "We were supposed to do something tonight into tomorrow, a getaway kind of, then I drew the short straw and this shift, okay? But we're gonna get dinner tomorrow with my dad, hopefully."

Assuming she's not exhausted and that Paula doesn't sign Rick up to do something book-related at the last minute the way she did last week. It was a good opportunity for him, but her first night off in over a week went to waste.

"Well I hope you get to have dinner with him and your dad."

That's surprisingly sweet for Esposito.

"Thanks, Espo."

She double parks in front of Castle's building, scouting for anything out of place before kicking her door open. Other than the figure with their head bent over their phone beside the door, the street's empty. And it's silent from what she can tell.

"Did dispatch give you a unit for this noise complaint?" Glancing over her shoulder, she lifts an eyebrow at Esposito.

"Ah, no. Not exactly. And I'm gonna admit, that wasn't exactly dispatch, either."

"So what, exactly, are we doing here?"

Esposito grins, looking at his watch. "Sayin' Happy Birthday, Beckett. I'll be in the car not watching. Don't say I don't care."

She twists when he gestures for her to turn around, coming face to face with the man who'd been leaning against the wall just a few minutes ago. Her hand flies to her hip only to realize she knows this person well.

Castle.

"Castle! You scared me."

"Sorry." He does look apologetic. "I know I kind of tricked you to get you here, but um, Happy Birthday and Happy Anniversary, Kate."

Before she has the chance to speak, to say thank you, or to yell at him for bringing them out there under false pretenses, his big hands cup her face and he's kissing her softly, reverently.

Her hands come up, too, curling around his wrists as she rocks into him. His mouth presses against hers, alternating between firm and soft, simultaneously grounding her and sending her flying.

Their noses bump, rubbing gently as they catch their breath. She can't believe him. He called Espo; he had Espo in on it. All to kiss her first thing on her birthday and to commemorate the moment she saw it was him.

Her breath catches in her chest. He did all of this for her.

"I love you," they say as one. Her fingers stroke the solid, gentle bones of his hands, his wrists.

"I do, Kate. I love you."

"Me, too. Me, too," she breathes, kissing him again to stave off the tears pricking her eyes.

One of his hands drops from her face, winding around her waist to pull her into him.

They've been having sex for weeks – since just a few days after his book release when he got the all-clear from his therapist and seduced her until she couldn't remember her own name – but her body thrums for him like it did the very first time. Her skin craves his hands, his mouth, the weight of his body. God, it's going to suck to have to go back to work after this; the taste of his kiss will be on her lips all night long.

"So just to be clear, there's no noise disturbance?" Her mouth presses into his palm, eyes lifting to his.

"Well we could make one," he suggests, pressing closer. "That might be super weird for Esposito, though."

"Pervert," she laughs, lifting into another kiss. "But I love you."

He grins against her mouth.

Her arms band around him, fingers combing through the short strands of hair at the back of his head. He's probably freezing in just the light jacket he's wearing, but he only shivers when her lips touch his neck.

Last year he was shivering for an entirely different reason.

Last year she was looking forward to working on her birthday.

Last year they were both treading water, fighting the tides and trying to avoid hitting the rocks, both drowning in different ways.

What a difference a year makes.

"Yo, Beckett, sorry to ruin the moment but we got a real call this time."

Her eyes slip shut. Damn.

"Okay, be right there."

Castle squeezes her tightly. "Let yourself in after your shift? I have a real birthday present for you."

"Oh yeah?" Her eyebrows wiggle. "Is that a euphemism for something?"

His laugh vibrates against her chest. "No, it's something more than a few minutes outside a building. Something tangible."

Oh, maybe that… the super secret thing he's been working on and hasn't been willing to tell her about?

"But I love how dirty your mind is, Beckett, and we can work with that if you'd like."

Laughing, she kisses him again. This is enough, these few minutes outside a building with him are enough for her, but she nods. "I will let myself in. It'll be late, or early I guess, but I will."

"Thank you." He thumbs her cheek. "Alexis and I are making you a big birthday brunchfast, too. So be warned."

"Thank you, that sounds delicious," she agrees quietly, holding his head. "Go inside and warm up. I love you."

She has a feeling he won't be able to get the smile off his face anytime soon. Not that she'll be any different, if she's honest with herself.

"Love you, too."

"And Happy Anniversary," she adds, squeezing him again. "Aren't you glad I didn't let Sparky handle you?"

They pull away, but his hand catches hers anyway, squeezing tightly.

"You have no idea."

* * *

_A/N: Thank you!_

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on fanfiction.net in December 2014, cross-posted here September 2015.


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